I went to a concert of probably my favorite band last night, The 1975. I went with Dylan and I wasn’t sure how it would go because I previously saw them with J, which was one of my favorite memories I had with him.
Dyl also really likes the band, whereas J mostly only went because I wanted to see them and he wanted to make me happy. Seeing the show with him in some ways was even better than when I saw them with J, which is a complicated feeling.
Dyl has already listened to their most recent album and we’ve thoroughly discussed it. For example, he read the lyrics to one of their new songs and told me about them. The song is really happy sounding but it’s actually about a mass shooter. The perspective is hilarious in effect and it’s such a smart social commentary. Dyl and I both completely agree about it being brilliant and it made us both like the song a lot more.
But J never listened to the lyrics like Dyl does and the lyrics are a major part of what I love about this band (and most other bands as well.) Like me, Dyl listens to the lyrics first and the music is secondary. J always listened to the music first and foremost. Because music is one of the most important things to me, I really appreciate that Dyl gets it, too. Of all my kids, he’s the one who most thoroughly shares my passion for music and understands how and why it means so much to me.
He has lots of other great qualities as well. He’s a lot like J but completely unique in his own way. I feel like I really understand him and he really understands me as well. In the absence of J, in particular, Dyl gives me a reason to keep going, even when it’s a colossal struggle to do so.
It’s kinda funny to think about just how deeply unhappy and depressed I was when I was pregnant with him because today he’s one of my very best friends in the world. I am so grateful that he exists.